


"Drinking Games (Are Not For Children)"

by Abby_Ebon



Series: All That Glitters [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Mummy (1999)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if what had happened in "The Morning after – or Something like It"…changed just a bit? Jonathon/Harry smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Drinking Games (Are Not For Children)"

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Shades of Panic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/452063) by [Abby_Ebon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon). 



"You look like you're having fun being gloomy." Jonathon told him, Harry snorted, and Jonathon quirked a grin.

"What do you say we go get good and drunk and forget that mess at Hamunaptra, eh?" Jonathon prodded, entering Harry's room. Harry considered it – he knew Hermione and Ron would have been disappointed.

"Sure, why not." Jonathon grinned and waited for Harry as he rose and left the room, Jonathon wrapped around Harry's shoulders, and leaned close to Harry's ear. "Lovely, I hate drinking alone."

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Let's play…um, spin the bottle – mixed with as bit of truth, dare, or lie…" Jonathon declared, upon sitting down, bottle of drink in hand. Harry found himself amused – for Jonathon had not even sipped a bit of alcohol and was already acting rather hyper. Instead he tilted his head, and thought he too much be a "little tipsy" for the game sounded, in the very least, interesting in a thrillingly naughty sort of way.

"How, exactly, would you go about playing?" Harry found himself asking, and Jonathon seemed quite enthusiastic at his chance to explain.

"Well, first, I suppose – one of us will have to finish his bottle. Then we'll spin it about, and whoever it points at will be the victim – I, uh, mean – player who has to either tell something about themselves that's either true or not – the other guesses if it is or not if they get it right, nothing happens – but if they are wrong, the one who had to give up truth or lie declares a dare – and if they don't do the dare, then they have to do what the other says." Jonathon declared smiling charmingly when Harry began to look a bit uneasy, but Harry only shrugged his agreement. It was only a game – what could come from playing a game? He should have remembered what harm had come from opening a book.

Jonathon quickly swallowed down his bottle, while Harry only sipped at it madding slowly. _If I win the question and answer_ , Jonathon thought frowning a little bit as he set the bottle on the table and flicked the throat of the bottle making it spin, _I'll have him finish off two of those first off. No fair if he can think._

The bottle ironically pointed at him.

"I –uh, don't like ancient cities." Jonathon declared, for it was true enough. He did not like Hamunaptra.

"Liar, you like their treasures well enough – just not the bodies of the once living." Harry corrected and a wicked little grin, not the least bit solemn, crossed his features. It was the most life he had shown since awakening in a sarcophagus – and Jonathon couldn't find it in himself to be unhappy about seeing him at least a little content.

"True, true – so what's the dare?" Jonathon might act the part of the fool, but he was not going to become the other mans servant because of a drinking game. Harry shrugged a shoulder, half smiling as he spoke.

"Sit on the floor." Harry told him promptly, before tapping the bottle neck, causing it to spin.

 _That's it?_ Jonathon thought, wondering why he felt a bit disappointed in the dare, even as he settled onto the dirt floor. The bottle pointed accusingly at him again.

"I'm not wearing underwear." Jonathon mumbled, Harry laughed spitting out some of the drink. He whipped his mouth, looked Jonathon up and down, measuring and weighting him. Jonathon wondered why he had to suppress a shiver at the thoughts those green eyes hid.

"Truth." Harry declared and Jonathon tried not to blush when he nodded. It was a harmless truth. Jonathon reached up on the table and spun the bottle, this time it pointed at Harry. _Finally_ , Jonathon thought, _now if only I can catch him in a lie._

"I…uh, have never died." Jonathon blinked – shaking his head, for a moment he had wanted to tell Harry he had lied. _Must be because of finding him in a sarcophagus, most dead men come from them._

"Truth…though you were touched by death by being in that sarcophagus." Jonathon stated, and Harry only smiled and shrugged a shoulder, tapping the bottle neck to send it spinning. Jonathon could only wonder why he felt cheated. It pointed once more at Harry. _Finally_ , Jonathon thought suppressing a grin, _a turn around._

"My eyes are from my mother." Harry admitted, and Jonathon sensed that this, at least, was truth if a bit of the truth of which Harry was that, nonetheless, somehow hurt Harry.

"Truth." Jonathon murmured softly, he could have argued it took two to tango and reproduce, but he found he didn't want to press the younger looking man for a dare or servant. About family, it just didn't seem right. Jonathon gave the bottle a tap, and a third time it pointed at Harry. Harry seemed to glare at it.

"I don't need glasses." Jonathon snickered, deciding to argue that point.

"Lie. You do when you're drinking – everyone does, though there isn't a cure for it." Harry blinked at him, chuckled, and nodded in agreement to his victory.

"Dare is…drink down two bottles of that stuff." Jonathon demanded, feeling a bit childish. Harry looked sick at the thought, but he didn't argue the point – or ask for what Jonathon would request of him otherwise – he gulped them down, and Jonathon knew the rush he'd get from doing so, though Harry was trying hard not to show it.

It took Harry twice to try, but the bottle was sent spinning in the end – only to land on Jonathon who pouted.

"The bottle is cursed." He declared softy, and Harry giggled, it was a sweet sound like the clattering of tiny bells, enchanted, Jonathon gazed at him, almost too dazed when Harry spoke that his declaration was truth or lie.

"Lie. Hmmm…kiss me?" Harry asked as a dare, and Jonathon's lips quirked in amusement, if Harry thought he would not….Jonathon got to his knee's eye-to-eye beside the youth, he cupped Harry's cheek in his hand, the tips of his fingers brushing the midnight locks. Gracefully he kissed the younger man whose lips gave under his kiss, and teasingly Jonathon let his tongue slip into the boy's mouth and tease his own slick muscle.

When he leaned away – tapping the bottle to send it spinning, Harry blinked at him – not noticing it pointed at him, staring at Jonathon wide eyed. Clearly the youth had not expected to be kissed. Jonathon settled back onto the floor, crossing his legs and deciding he didn't mind so much that Harry was a tease when he was tipsy.

"That…wasn't my first kiss." Harry said softly, face flushing. Jonathon sitting on the floor at Harry's side wondered who the boy was trying to fool.

"Liar… worlds of difference between a kiss from a girl one from a man – and you've never kissed a man." Jonathon told him, narrow eyed, Harry only licked his lips, not arguing the truth of his words. _If I didn't know better_ , Jonathon thought looking at Harry from beneath his half lidded eyes, _I'd say he wants to be wrong._

"You've had enough." Jonathon told him then, not wanting to give a dare or order. It had been a stupid idea, and he felt as if he was cheating somehow, playing with the boy like he was.

"Come on, off to bed with you." Jonathon stated, rising to his feet, when Harry tried to follow he stumbled and swayed. In the end Jonathon had to lead him to his rooms, pulling back the bed covers so Harry could crawl under them. Harry had surprised him though; he was only dressed in a shirt, having disregarded his pants somewhere in the bedroom. Jonathon felt a bit silly, preparing to tuck a grown man into bed. Before he could walk away, or move to cover Harry up, the younger man pulled him down on top of him, kissing him greedily.

Jonathon could not help the lurch his groin gave at the whimper Harry gave when he began to return the kiss with equal enthusiasm.

"You sure you want to do this?" Jonathon hastily asked when they paused in their kiss for breath, he was already atop the younger man, straddling him, he felt Harry's hips rock beneath him Harry's cock rubbing against the cleft of Jonathon's ass.

"Yes." It was an odd mix of a growled hiss, but Jonathon had little time to think about what he was getting into as Harry fought to pull his pants off, with a wriggle of his hips the clothing fell away and he was trusting and arching against Harry, at times his cock throbbed against Harry's own, sometimes his groin touched Harry's ass and the younger man would moan, breath catching in his throat to show approval or want. But it was Jonathon who gasped, panting and fighting to keep breathing rather then fall into an abyss of need and want when Harry's length pressed against his entrance teasingly.

"What do you want?" Harry murmured softly against the shell of his ear, lips fastening on the lobe, teeth and tongue teasing him into a panting mass that Harry maneuvered onto the mattress, touching navel and groin with teasing insistence until Jonathon all too willingly spread his legs for the golden skinned with ebony locks and intense green eyes.

"P-please, Harry…" Jonathon was not above begging and pleading for what he wanted – not when Harry was hovering over him, touching him, making his body sing for his own desire.

"What do you want, Jonathon?" Harry asked again, this time in a tone that Jonathon knew to be a demand, he gasped with pleasure, and eyes fluttering closed as slick digits probed and stoked him until he was breathless with pleasure, the need for Harry to be within him was all he could think of.

"Y-you, you Harry, please, I want you. Inside me, take me, Harry – fuck me." So he begged for it, pleading for Harry to let him have the pleasure that was hovering, just out of reach, the ultimate tease.

Harry gave a moan that was more like a growl as he pressed his length into Jonathon, slowly – bit by bit; he felt it move into him. Invading him, taking him – owning him as only a man could own another man. Jonathon cried out, lust licking at his groin when he felt with all his being that groin throb against him – within him.

When Harry began to slowly thrust in and out, moving his body against Jonathon's own almost tenderly, hesitating in the awe of feeling and lust that heated them, Jonathon could not allow such a gentle partnering and arched his hips – welcoming Harry, forcing him in deeper – and it was good, felt so good – he was not surprised when Harry, unable to keep his control sped up, thrusting in wildly – hard and deep, so much so that the bed rocked, thumping against the wall, the springs in the mattress creaking protests which were blatantly ignored.

"A-ah…Jon…" Harry gasped out, and Jonathon opened his eyes, seeing Harry looking down at him in an expression that was a mix of need and…and awe? Jonathon did not have time to do more then burn the image in his mind, for later; he promised himself, he would study it. Before Harry was rocking, harder and harder against him – in him, at one point slipping entirely out of Jonathon only to thrust the length of him fully inside, and with a throbbing twitch Jonathon felt the climax ride him, jolting limbs as if in seizure and Jonathon could only gasp out Harry's mangled name.

"H-Harr'!" He heard, rather then felt, Harry be engulfed by his own climax. When he came out of his pleasured daze, he found Harry half asleep, his arm curled around Jonathon's waist. Jonathon gave his…lover…a contented smile, before a wicked grin crossed his features.

 _I will take you_ , Jonathon promised as he gently kissed scar on Harry's sweaty forehead, _and you **will** scream my name, Harry._


End file.
